


Love in the Time of Corona

by TellMeNoAgain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coronavirus, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Multi, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: I KNOW THE TITLE IS HOKEY....but we all need some fluffy self-care fics, and I'm giving you that.  Fluffy.  Self-care.  Coronavirus. Fic. (with sex, because I'm still me!)~~~Bb, p/u the phone in 15?buzzed the notification on Peter’s phone.  He checked the clock and the professor on the screen of his computer and frowned.18 m of class left, he texted back furiously, one handed, just out of view of the camera.😒flashed across his screen, huge.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	Love in the Time of Corona

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LivviBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivviBee/gifts).



> We could all use some nice gentle domestic fluff fics to help us get through COVID-19, and this is exactly what Livvi requested for her birthday.
> 
> Sorry it took so VERY LONG to post it, but you know me- the most hideous raunchy worst fics = easy to write. Soft sweet domestic fluff? IM.POSS.IB.LE.
> 
> Thank you to the cheering squad in the TW section of Writer Buddies Discord server, and to my beta supremes jf4m and mindwiped!
> 
> Happy birthday, Livvi. I hope you get everything you want in the coming year, and if not, I hope the sexy parts are good enough to make shaving your legs worth it, every time!

_Bb, p/u the phone in 15?_ buzzed the notification on Peter’s phone. He checked the clock and the professor on the screen of his computer and frowned. 

_18 m of class left_ , he texted back furiously, one handed, just out of view of the camera.

😒

flashed across his screen, huge.

“Yeah, yeah, Tony,” sighed Peter, tapping his pencil on the notebook and concentrating again. The tension in his shoulders actually ached, which sucked. Online coursework sucked, actually, he considered absently. Everything about this coronavirus bullshit sucked, except the sudden dip in crime levels.

That was okay.

Even if it did mean Peter spent large swaths of his nightly patrols of Cambridge, already a boring city in comparison with The City, _bored out of his mind_.

He didn’t need the adrenaline rush. He was proving that, in fact. Proving it well, how little he needed the adrenaline rush.

Unlike some jerks.

⏳ flashed across his screen.

The biggest of whom would remain nameless because it was _obvious_.

“So, again, use the guided tutorial for chapter two, and I’ll expect project 1 to be uploaded by _midnight_ on Friday, folks, fully complete, and I’ll need your update on project 2 at the same time. Send them as two different documents, everybody got that?” asked the professor, sounding irritated. Peter resisted a snarl. Yeah. Everyone was hating the new arrangement, it was obvious. Professors who had been peaceful and gentle last year were now snarling monsters of exasperation at the new systems the school had launched- who the _fuck_ decided a new learning platform was a good idea in the middle of a goddamn pandemic? Who _made_ those decisions?

The professor hung around answering questions and, because he could be a jerk, too, Peter stayed to listen until the _official end of class_ , ignoring two texts of _I can see class is over, hang up_ and _why are you such a teacher’s pet, bb?_

The phone rang as soon as he clicked the red button and Peter rolled his eyes, saying, “Answer, on speaker.”

“FINALLY,” shouted Tony. “Those were entry-level questions, why did you- you know what? Whatever. I don’t care. Be a little-”

“Education is-” began Peter, because if they were re-opening hostilities, he was fine with that. Tony had _no right_ to shout at him!

“Completely unnecessary, you’re a _genius_ who should just be able to come to work for me, yesterday-” ranted Tony.

“ _You_ have a degree!” protested Peter, stung once again by the egomaniacal _unfairness_ of Tony Stark. “You _hypocrite_.”

“I was escaping my unhappy homelife,” grated Tony, “I didn’t _need_ it, I learned hardly _anything_ and-”

“That is a _lie!”_ shouted Peter.

There was silence in the apartment around him.

“I resent the fuck out of your pursuit of education at a time like this,” stated Tony hotly.

“And I resent the fuck out of-” began Peter.

“Okay, enough,” interrupted Pepper, and Peter swallowed, his eyes suddenly hot. “You two, I swear,” she huffed. “Peter, we're calling because we were wondering if you were free today, and when, and if we could plan to see you? We have something we want to talk with you about, something very important.”

“Tony could _die,”_ choked Peter, tears in the back of his throat. “If I- if I- I have to go in for the labs, Pepper,” he added miserably. “I- practical application and-” he put his head down, suddenly, on his arms, letting the tears leak out onto his skin, just a little. “And he could _die,_ Pepper, and I- I _can’t_ \- we _just got him back_ ,” he whispered, although he knew they’d both already heard it a million times.

“I won’t,” said Tony forcefully, like he _always did_. He always acted like he wasn’t fucking medically fragile and like he could survive anything but he wasn’t, he could- 

“Fuck,” shouted Peter. “Just- just fucking _stop_ , Tony, I-”

“Tony is going to be very quiet, right now,” said Pepper threateningly, “and you and I are going to talk, Peter. Your education _is_ important, it’s good- no, you shut up, Tony- and we’re both very proud of you- _shut up, Tony, I mean it_. We are committed to supporting you. We can do the simulator if that’s what you want, but-”

“Bruce and I have _almost_ got the instant test, Petey, we do,” mumbled Tony in a wrecked, quiet voice. Peter sobbed, just once, imagining a world wherein he could go over and hug Tony and cuddle Pepper, again, and not feel- not feel this _panic_ , in his chest. “Two, maybe three days, just to refine the filter for the breathalizer, and I promise, you’ll get the first one, I’ll drone drop it to wherever you are- just, I just really need-”

 _-Don’t say it, don’t say it,_ begged Peter’s mind as he breathed shallowly and his hands made fists-

“-to touch you,” confessed Tony, and Peter’s body slammed into defensive hyperdrive, bolting to his feet and his hands hitting the table, making everything shake and the thick metal dent.

“If you touch me and _die_ , Tony,” shouted Peter, “that will ruin _everything_ , do you understand that? Do you understand, they die _alone_ , Tony? And I can’t- I- it’s not my _field_ ,” he gasped, eyes filling again. “It’s not- I don’t- I have to learn more,” he explained, again, weakly. “I can’t- please _stop asking_.”

There was silence, or almost silence, Peter could hear Tony’s distinctive swallow, the hitch in his breathing that Peter’d become so familiar with, the last two months, as they fought about school and science and Peter leaving the SI lab to go _get actual training_ at MIT. 

“Not tonight, then,” sighed Pepper. “Okay, what does your schedule look like tomorrow?”

“I’m in classes from- you have my schedule,” accused Peter. “You already have it, Pepper.”

“Yes, I do,” agreed Pepper calmly, “and it looks like just virtual classes, and the next day you have nothing but virtual classes. Which you can do from anywhere, if you don’t have work in the MIT labs to get done-” Tony snorted and Peter’s jaw clenched but Pepper continued as if she was unaware of the roiling emotions she was floating above, “so when can you come and get clean-suited to work with Tony and Bruce in the lab, hon?”

“Get… what?” he asked dumbly.

“Yeah, so,” snarled Tony, “I can’t believe it’s taken a fucking month for one of us to figure this out, but-”

“Clean suits,” breathed Peter, his heart lifting dizzingly. “I could- I could wear-”

“You could wear a clean suit,” agreed Pepper, the smiling relief in her voice matching Peter’s tone. “Oxygen supply. We can make sure Tony doesn’t breathe the same air as you-”

“We can keep Tony safe and I can _be there_ ,” gasped Peter, his hands trembling as he ran them through his hair. “I didn’t- I didn’t even-”

“I know,” muttered Tony resentfully, “me neither, I didn’t even-”

“Fuck, Tony,” laughed Peter, a little hysterically, “we wasted so much _time_ , I could-”

“Will you come?” demanded Tony, his voice heated with the same twisted need. “Will you come and help us?”

“Of course,” breathed Peter, shuffling through the things on the desk. He needed, he needed- none of this- none of this, he didn’t need- stuff for classes, he’d fought so hard for them, he had to take the stuff for classes, but he was alone in this dorm, here, and he’d only taken the bare minimum of what he needed to survive, so all his stuff was still at the their place, at-

“I’ll send a suit,” offered Tony eagerly. “How fast can you-”

“Send the suit,” declared Peter. “I can be ready, when it gets here, I- I’ll pack a bag. Can you- how- send me the data, from you and Bruce, the-”

“Yes,” agreed Tony, “Yes, Fri, talk to Karen, get him everything, he’s gonna-”

“I can- Jesus, Tony,” gasped Peter. 

“Your first lab is on Monday,” said Pepper. “The 24 hour test, done three times-”

“Yeah, yeah, I could- I could come up to the apartment on Sunday,” said Peter, shocked, and then, his eyes filling with tears, he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. “If- if- if- _Tony_.”

“I know,” promised Tony in a ragged voice. “Get here. I’ll leave the first test in the decontam room, you can run it yourself in the lab.”

“Come home, Peter,” said Pepper, her heart in her voice, as always.

“Yeah,” sobbed Peter. “Yeah, I want- _clean suit_ , Tony.”

“I know, I know, I been killing myself about it since we thought of it,” Tony told him, barking a laugh. “How the fuck the three best minds in the world-”

“Four,” corrected Peter.

“Yeah, Bruce is pretty smart, too,” laughed Tony, and then there was the sound of Pepper kissing him, over the line, and Peter thought dizzyingly about _kissing_ Tony or Pepper, on Sunday.

“I miss you,” he croaked. 

“Fuck, kid,” breathed Tony. “I-”

“Tony can’t deal with that right now,” Pepper said briskly. “But I can. We missed you, too, hon. So much. Oodles. Prepare to be pampered and spoiled and the minute they have the breath-test ready to go, Peter, the minute they do, you’re spending the entire weekend in my arms, do you hear me?”

The tears in Peter’s eyes spilled over as he nodded. “Yes, Pepper, yes. I-” he swallowed thickly. “I hear you, God, I do, yes, Pepper.”

“Suit’s sent,” croaked Tony. “Go, go pack. I’ll- the test’ll be in the decontam shower, I’ll prep it myself, Peter, I will.”

Another sob escaped Peter’s lips before he close them, his throat tight. “Yeah, yeah, yes, Tony,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I’ll, I’ll see you, right, you’ll be in the-”

“With _bells on_ ,” promised Tony fiercely. “I’ll go now, I’ll be _waiting_ , Peter. I-”

“Yeah,” said Peter, because what was there to say that they hadn’t already yelled at each other? “Yeah, I- me, too.”

“Neither one of you,” said Pepper into the silence, “deserves me, and I expect my gifts this year to reflect that fact.”

Peter began to laugh, and his heart floated as he heard Tony’s rusty but true laugh for the first time in a month ring out over the line. _This was gonna be okay, just like she’d promised_. They were gonna be okay. They’d- they’d hit a bump, but the whole _world_ had hit the same bump, and they could figure this out, they could. They’d be okay.

The part of his mind that never stopped doing math reminded him how fast a suit could get to his apartment from the Stark Compound and he startled, hands flying to collect the things he’d need.

The things he’d need, if he was- he swallowed again- going home to them. For the weekend.

It still felt surreal, after the months of fighting and the self-imposed self-control of exile. 

Fucking- why hadn’t any of the scientists at _any point_ in the last few weeks pointed out that they had a _sterile room_.

It wasn’t Tony’s workshop, sure, but to stand beside Tony and _help_ , like he’d helped the man all summer, like he’d helped the man since his return, like he’d been helping the man _for years_ before that-

The ache deep in Peter’s chest was bursting and he let it, as he gathered the very few things he knew he’d need, mostly for classes, and looked around the small little self-contained room he’d been stuffing himself into daily. He took a deep breath, and started watching out the window. The windows weren’t supposed to open, because of the fall-or-jump risk, but Peter was an _engineer major_ and all it took to disable the safety mechanism was the correct application of the right amount of force.

Like a safety measure designed by committee was gonna keep him from Tony and Pepper.

Like a safety measure designed by Tony Stark could keep him away, now that it was- now that there was- _fuck, how had none of them even thought of it?_

~~~

“God, okay, you look good, so just stand there,” babbled Tony, in his own sterile suit, standing in front of Peter. “Bruce you make one little comment and so help me God I will cut funding to a random five projects and make you enemies by giving your lab the funding, don’t-”

“Tony,” croaked Peter. “Shut up.”

Tony shuffled forward and bumped their plastic visors together. “I am going to destroy you,” he promised lowly. “Because I have been a fucking wreck, the last two months, and-”

“I missed you, too,” Peter said lowly. “I had to go, I have to- you have to let me-”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” complained Tony, pulling a face, “but I don’t, there has to be legal ways to make you do what I want you to do, I’m pretty sure this is America, and we’re capitalist, and I have money, and that means I can make the rules.”

“Tony, shut up,” said Peter and Bruce fondly, rolling their eyes at each other expressively.

“Glad to have you back,” said Bruce from his own suit, feet away, “we could use another set of eyes on us, we’re in end-stage development and we’re- it’s the polymers of the screen. We need it to- I was thinking-” he threw up screen after screen in front of Peter and Peter turned from Tony, caught by some of the models floating there, now.

They’d… they’d done a lot of work. He could see, in the leap from where he’d left them in August to October, the frantic all-nighters Tony had pulled, the I-can’t-sleep-so-I’ll-science manic stupidity that must have hit the man, after he left. He set his jaw. 

That was fine. It’s not like Peter had been sleeping well, either.

Guilt prodded him.

Well. He could- they could figure something out. Maybe-

“Here, Peter, right here,” said Tony, bounding forward, all energy. “This, what do you-”

“Oh, no,” said Peter, dismayed, “You can’t- that’s not right. That’s, I mean, thanks for using my webs without my permission, assholes, but you can’t, that’s just gonna break down-”

“Yeah, so we added a salicylate,” said Bruce, and Peter was _back in the land of people who could hold an actual scientific conversation, hallelujah_.

“That’s not gonna do what you want, though,” Peter protested.

“Whaddaya know, it didn’t,” snarked Tony. “So, what will?”

Back in the land of fast-paced, real science, Peter took a deep breath and tilted his head, squinting. “Well…” he began, raising his hands as the other two men leaned in.

~~~

“So, we’re really close, Pepper,” enthused Peter, gobbling down the spaghetti on the plate in front of him and then waving his fork, to entertain her while he swallowed and then gasped, “I mean, they’re really close, but like, _really close_ , Pepper!”

“So everyone tells me,” said Pepper smoothly, lifting the wine glass to her lips and arching an eyebrow at him, lips quirking. “How’s my spaghetti?”

“‘S perfect, always is,” he assured her, smiling back broadly. “So it’s realistic, next week, maybe the week after, I could have one _in my hand_ , Pepper.”

“And that would have changed everything, anyway,” she sighed, shaking her head. “And here I thought-”

“Oh, you saved lives,” agreed Tony. “His life, my life, Bruce’s life, Dum-E’s life, I was ready to go full villain if the stalemate lasted even a week longer.”

Peter bridled and said firmly, “It wasn’t a _stalemate_ , it’s my _life_ , Tony.”

“And now it’s _our life_ , again,” said Pepper brightly. “Did your test come back negative, today?”

“Yes,” said Peter and Tony in unison, and in the same happy tone, as well.

“Two more days and then,” she sighed contentedly, “the snuggles I’ve been missing.”

“Pepper sandwich, first thing in the morning,” declared Tony. “She missed you, baby.”

“I missed her,” confessed Peter, flushing a little. “I missed-”

“No, don’t say it, he still can’t handle it,” said Pepper, cutting him off with a wry smile. 

“She made me go to therapy,” said Tony, affronted.

“Hey, I had to go too,” Peter informed him, holding up his hands innocently.

“You both need more,” Pepper told them pertly, taking a sip of her wine and another forkful of her spaghetti.

“Movie night,” declared Tony. “Educating our young partner, who is woefully inadequate on his popular knowledge of the 80s, 90s, and early 2k scene.”

“Original Musketeers, 1970s,” declared Pepper.

“Oooh,” said Tony. “The _good_ one.”

“Fine by me,” said Peter, shoveling in Pepper’s spaghetti because the frozen stuff she’d sent with him hadn’t been nearly this good.

“Sunday,” sighed Tony, “is too long to wait to steal your popcorn.”

“You can steal mine,” Pepper promised him indulgently.

They kissed, and Peter’s fork halted half-way to his mouth. He’d- he’d forgotten this part, of living with them, of being with them, really. How supernova they would go, in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

They parted and turned to him, smiling. 

“Hey, sport, got some drool, riiiiight-” said Tony, lifting a hand to point.

Peter slapped his cheek and slid his hand to his chin, and then glared at Tony. “I do not!” he protested, cheeks flaming.

“Missed us, huh?” teased Pepper. “They don’t have porn on campus any more?”

“You’d think they’d be giving you guys free subscriptions, trying to keep you away from each other,” grumbled Tony. “Oh, hey, Pepper, great idea for a charity thing-”

“No,” said Pepper, her eyes never leaving Peter’s.

God, he wished he could touch her cheek, kiss her smiling lips, whisper awed nonsense into her hair.

“Fri, sync a screen, and find some company that’s put The Three Musketeers on their streaming, and buy that company, if we have to,” said Tony blithely. 

Another screen popped up in the isolation room where Peter was spending the night and he nodded thanks at Tony, chewing. “Hey,” he said suddenly, remembering, “which one of you put my blanket down here?”

“Wasn’t me,” said Tony, shrugging. “I don’t think of stuff like that.”

Peter looked at Pepper who smiled and mouthed, _it was him_.

Peter snorted. So Tony. “Well, whoever it was, thank you. It was- it was nice to come home to it.”

“Home,” repeated Tony, stiffening.

“Yeah, Tony, _home_ ,” emphasized Peter, feeling his own shoulders tense up again.

“Cease fire,” declared Pepper. “Tony, you just spent four weeks mad as hell because he went to live in your old apartment in Cambridge, you cannot now-”

“I _knew_ that was your apartment!” yelped Peter. “I _told_ Happy it was familiar and it was from the _photographs_ , wasn’t it?”

“Oh, hell,” sighed Pepper, shaking her head. “Go ahead, fight again. I swear to God, I used to think the sexual tension was bad in the month before we hooked up.”

“This is _not_ sexual tension,” they both protested at once. Pepper took a long slow sip of her wine, her eyebrows flying.

“He’s not home until he’s here, in our bed,” said Tony firmly.

“Oh,” said Peter stupidly. “Oh, yeah, that’s- Tony, I agree,” he said seriously. “I didn’t- yes. Home is there- with _you-”_

He watched Tony swallow on-screen and said, “I’m _sorry_.” A million words, from you-are-my-home-Tony, to I-am-not-your-damn-father, to we-could-have-figured-this-out-if you’d-worked-with-me sprang to his lips and he swallowed them all. Now was _not_ the time, not _now,_ with Tony’s exhaustion clearly starting to catch up to him and Peter unable to press kisses to the man’s skin, physical comforts that would help them both survive the hot tempest of tempers that would sprint up from any of the things he wanted- _needed_ \- to say to the man.

“Three days, two really, and you get to spend all day together in the lab solving the world’s current biggest problem,” said Pepper reasonably. “You can do it. And now, since I am done and you are, too, Tony, let's take this into the living room for a bit.”

“Yeah,” croaked Tony. “Yeah, good call,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry, Underoos. Still- still me. Still spikey.”

“Still not running,” Peter reassured him. 

“Coulda-” Tony croaked and then cleared his throat and repeated, “Coulda fooled me, there, Petey.”

“I didn’t run from you to go to college,” sighed Peter. He’d told the man and told the man, but if the man wouldn’t _listen_ \- half of every fight they’d ever had was Tony working from a faulty set of data.

Or Peter, he conceded, watching Tony’s face flash through emotions.

“I want to be home,” he told Tony. “With you. More than anything. I’m miserable at college.”

“I know,” snarled Tony. “And you don’t _have_ to be.”

“You’re both idiots, and I’m eating all the popcorn,” declared Pepper. “Tony, come sit down, stop poking at bruises. Peter, wrap up in that blanket and try to look like you’re just down the hall.”

“I am just- I mean, I’m a couple floors away, but I am _right here_ ,” Peter said firmly.

“Good,” grunted Tony. “Stay here. That’s literally been my whole campaign.”

Peter sighed and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, pushing the empty plate to one side and stretching out on the bed. 

It was going to be a long two days.

~~~

The thing was, though, that the days flew by, faster than Peter believed possible. Tony and Bruce and Peter just _clicked_ in the clean lab, as easily as they’d ever clicked in a Candyland lab or another lab out here at the Compound. They solved the filter problem and the recharge problem and Pepper kept them from each other’s throats the rest of the time, her wry smile as useful as her “Nope, stop right now,” at easing the sudden pockets of tension they had to dance around when they weren’t focused on making the analyzers as easy to mass-produce as possible, with as little eco-footprint as they could squeak.

It felt like _flying_ , it felt like, like _coming home_ should feel. And now, it was Saturday afternoon and Peter was holding the first COVID-19 breathalyzer in his hand, staring at it in wonder. “We did it?” he asked uncertainly.

“We did it,” sighed Tony, scrubbing his face. 

“Go in the next room, crack your suit, and give it a blow,” suggested Bruce.

Tony and Peter snickered.

“And while you’re in there, grow up,” added Bruce under his breath.

They continued to snicker while Peter headed to the next room, holding the slightly-warm breathalyzer in his palm. “How many did we say?” he asked absently.

“You can blow-” began Bruce. Tony snickered as Bruce rolled his eyes, continuing “- every four hours for a week, Peter.”

“Ooooh, I’ll need a case of lil’ blue pills, for that one, Peter,” laughed Tony.

“Stop it,” sighed Bruce. “You are a man of science, not a-”

Peter snickered and took a deep breath, exhaling.

The light at the top stayed green.

He smiled through the glass at the other men and said, “Well, we better go get these to places with active cases and see what the data says about how accurate they are with real, live breathing specimens.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” said Tony, and then he was exiting the clean lab, _into the same room as Peter._

“Tony-” protested Peter, shocked and confused, “-what?”

“You’re fine, you’re not- you just passed the breathalyzer, Peter.”

“Yeah, the untested breathalyzer,” protested Peter.

“We tested it,” pointed out Tony. “We’ve tested it at 2.2 meters per second and 9.9 meters per second, for exhalations of 2 second and 8 seconds. With active virus, with dead virus, with no virus, and that green light, what does that mean?”

“No virus detected,” Peter told him dumbly. “It- it could be defective, it could-”

“It could work, though,” said Tony. “You just spent two days with me and Bruce, what do you think?”

“I took breaks,” said Peter weakly. “I had classwork.”

Tony stalked forward, and lifted the head drape off of his shoulders, unsealing it with a soft _pop_. “Peter Parker,” he said quietly, leaning in, and Peter knew the words he was going to say and wanted to babble, _no, Tony, no, no, no, not those words_ , but he couldn’t breathe, “Do. You. _Trust_. Me.”

“With your life,” Peter whispered, which was a little wrong, he’d actually said, _with my life_ , at the time.

“Then kiss me,” said Tony, like Peter’d used the right words again.

Peter leaned forward and kissed the man, and then burst into tears. 

“If you die again, I’ll- I’ll-” he babbled into Tony’s mouth, because he was already crying, so it was time to put the cards on the table.

“I take NAC, I’m downing Vitamin D like it’s the big D and it’s 1993,” Tony chided him. “Relax, you are not responsible for my health.”

“I can’t be the reason you-” faltered Peter, trying to catch his breath to kiss the man and really _kiss_ the man, again. He lifted his watering eyes to Tony’s. “Not again.”

“So don’t be,” said Tony, tapping the breathalyzer. “Every four hours. You have labs on Mondays and Tuesdays, and three days of virtual classes, and you can _be here_ every weekend.”

He… could, Peter realized. He could do that. And it would be- _safe_. He _could_.

“I hate my labs,” he confessed in a sob. “I’m scared all the time. I can fight- I can fight Thanos or the Rhino or Loki or whoever you want but this is-”

“This is worse,” agreed Tony quietly. “I know, baby. I know it is.” His strong arms wrapped around Peter’s frame and pulled Peter tight, right where he most wanted to be, the last four weeks. Peter dug his face into the side of Tony’s neck and breathed in the sheer _scent_ of the other man.

“I’m leaving,” announced Bruce. “Everything is, uh, locked down and cleaned up for the day, and you two should go upstairs.”

“Yes,” said Tony for both of them. “Thanks, Brucie-buddy.”

“Have a good night, guys. Sleep well,” said Bruce pointedly, and then they were alone.

“Come home,” whispered Tony to Peter, his eyes saying so much more than that.

“Yeah,” agreed Peter, nodding weakly. “Yeah, Tony, take me home.”

~~~

Pepper looked up and then her perfect jaw dropped into a delighted grin. “Peter!” she called, opening her arms.

Peter flew into them, his eyes filling with tears again. “Pepper,” he muttered into hair. “Pepper, we did it, and I don’t, I’m not-”

“A few hours early,” she teased him gently, kissing his cheek. “Tony, you dog.”

“I’ve convinced him he could do labs on Monday and Tuesday and then test all week, and come home on the weekend,” announced Tony, rubbing a hand on Peter’s back like he can’t help touching. 

“We are going to have the most boring 24 hours ever,” Pepper announced. “You’re going to do the dishes together-” they groaned and then grinned at each other “-and I will send the video to Natasha to make her jealous. I may post it to Twitter and make every woman in the world jealous,” she said slowly. “Why are you still wearing work clothes? Up, gentlemen. I demand pajamas.”

Peter grinned up at Tony, who smirked back. “Yes, Pepper,” they said in unison.

“Well?” she asked, clearly unimpressed. “Get going.”

Tony grabbed Peter’s arm and Peter let himself be led into the bedroom, past the bed and into the closet. “My stuff, you have to wear-” muttered Tony, his head tilting as he considered the drawers and shelves. “Oh! I know!”

He dug in Pepper’s side of the closet first, pulling out one of Pepper’s v-neck sleep t-shirts, in a deep, rich red. “On, it’s one of the bamboo ones, they’re- just- she just found them, they’re stupid soft-” he told Peter distractedly, racing to his side of the room to dig in a drawer and produce two pairs of matching black sweatpants, with the words, “I am Iron Man” written down one thigh, his signature scrawled down the side of the calf. 

Peter rolled his eyes and snorted, but shrugged out of his lab clothes eagerly. Months back, he’d been so nervous getting naked in front of Tony, and it was a little like that again, the weeks of isolation making him unused to it. What if- what if- Tony had stopped moving, so he glanced up, anxious.

Tony was staring at him, lips parted, eyes wide, his hands clutching the pair of pants in front of him, twisting the fabric.

Peter stilled to match him, realizing after a few heartbeats that it left him naked, which was maybe _worse_ but with that look in Tony’s eyes- maybe _not_ , too. Maybe- 

“You are-” said Tony raggedly, “a sight for sore eyes.”

Not quite, _I missed you so much_ , but close enough, conceded Peter, his throat closing on emotion. Tony was a mess of triggers and issues and a minefield of ways to misstep and misinterpret- loving him was learning five languages at once, all with conflicting grammar rules. Tony had missed him, Tony had wanted him and missed him and Tony _loved him_ even though- even though they’d been bitterly fighting. Tony had _wanted him_ , still wanted him.

“I-” said Peter a little helplessly, shrugging, and then Tony was in his space, kissing his mouth with demanding need.

“Pepper wants you in those pajamas,” muttered Tony against Peter’s lips. “I want you in my arms.”

Peter felt the blood rushing through his body in a way that he hadn’t- he- “Yes,” he gasped at Tony. “Please, yes.”

It was stupid and sappy and maybe it was rude, it was always hard to tell, now, what other people would find rude, because once you learned to speak Tony, it was hard to remember the other rules for normal relationships. But Tony was kissing Peter, devouring him in this closet, and Peter’s fingers slid up and under Tony’s shirt of their own volition, skimming the smooth sides and the small patches of hair and the scars, all of it, sliding Tony’s shirt up, up- and with Tony’s huffed impatient laugh, _off_ , finally. Tony grasped and grabbed at Peter’s ass and hips and back, pulling him tight and tighter, and there were maybe five people in the whole world who got to touch Tony’s scars, maybe. _Maybe_. And Peter was one of them, and it’d been so long since he’d been _able_ to, and Tony would be okay, Peter wasn’t going to- he couldn’t- he wasn’t _carrying_ anything dangerous, into this closet, he wasn’t- he wasn’t infectious and Tony would be-

“Stop that,” muttered Tony impatiently. “I can feel you worrying, you know.”

Peter’s lips curved into a teasing grin as he mouthed along Tony’s jaw before pulling away and quickly throwing on the clothes Tony had chosen for him. He waited impatiently for Tony to throw on his own sweats and a tight black t-shirt and then pounced for another kiss, breathing into it, “Make me. Make me not worry, Tony. Make me worry about the _right things_ for once.”

Tony’s eyes blazed and his lips curved into a smile, and then he crooned, “You always say the nicest things, Petey-pie,” before capturing Peter’s mouth again.

How long they stood there, in their pajamas, making out in an actual closet, Peter couldn’t say.

“Did I give you enough time?” asked Pepper in a teasing voice. “Did you hug it out, yet?”

“Almost,” gasped Peter. “I really need him to fuck me, though.”

“No, I want _him_ to fuck _me_ ,” declared Tony.

“I’m the one that didn’t kill either of you stubborn jackasses, I’m the one getting fucked tonight,” said Pepper decidedly.

Peter thought of the warm clench of her walls around his dick, the way she looked with her eyes half-lidded and her body in a fine sheen of sweat, of glancing over her shoulder and catching the look on Tony’s face, and he swallowed. 

“Yeah,” said Tony in a stunned voice, “Yeah, no, I rescind my vote, let’s do that.”

“First, _dinner_ ,” said Pepper, and they groaned simultaneously. “Peter, did you set a timer for your test, or do you need-”

“Fri, set the timer, every four hours,” demanded Tony impatiently. “There, it’s done, let’s go eat something fast, and then-”

“I want my men,” said Pepper. “I want you _home_ , doing _us stuff.”_

Peter looked at Tony, certain his expression betrayed how much the demand was torture, with _need-to-fuck_ screaming through his veins, but also certain his eyes said, _Pepper gets what Pepper wants_. Tony looked mutinously back at him, and then sighed. “Two against one. Always two against one.”

Pepper stepped forward and laid her hand on the center of his chest, rubbing soothingly. “Always, Mr. Stark,” she teased, kissing his lips. “And you love it.”

“I do,” he said brightly. “What are we eating?”

“Peter can make us that pierogi thing,” suggested Pepper.

“I can!” agreed Peter eagerly, still shocked that they _liked_ it, and wanted more.

“I can’t be more than five steps from him,” pointed out Tony, like that was _reasonable_.

“Then you’ll have to help him, won’t you?” Pepper laughed.

“Oh, Lord,” swore Peter. “No, don’t- Just- just spectate.” Visions of the let’s-make-a-pizza disaster exploded before his eyes, although they probably couldn’t make that big of a mess with pierogi dough. Probably.

“C’mon,” laughed Pepper. “Kitchen, chop chop.”

“Lollipop,” added Tony brightly. “Can he suck on a lollipop while he makes dinner? I have just the best image of it, right now?”

“He can suck on whatever you want, as long as the food is edible,” Pepper promised, and Peter stumbled, shocked, as the images of _that_ rose up in his mind’s eye.

“Tell me there’s like a fifteen minute section of making pierogies where you’re doing nothing and waiting for something to happen,” Tony demanded.

“No,” said Peter sadly. “It’s all pretty-”

“Let’s make pizza,” offered Tony. “That has waiting, and then, while we’re waiting, you can suck on-”

Pepper laughed, “Pierogies, Tony.”

Peter laughed at the disgusted look Tony threw her, and headed for the kitchen, certain the man would follow.

~~~

But it was the pizza fiasco all over again, despite Peter’s best efforts. Tony couldn’t keep his hands off of Peter, hipchecking the younger man and sliding his arms around Peter to show him a better way to cut the potatoes, his competent hands making Peter’s blood boil as they sliced and diced and chopped. No one should be able to do all the things Tony could do in a lab, and in an office, and the workshop, and in the field, and then _on top of all that_ , be able to dice potatoes and onions like a Sicilian grandmother, without even having to look. 

And Tony _knew_ how Peter felt about it, snickering into the crook of Peter’s neck and rubbing his crotch against Peter’s ass until Pepper made him go sit down at the counter to give Peter a moment to collect himself.

Although at the time, her assistance had felt much more like interference and he’d harbored more than a little resentment.

Tony had ended up as covered in flour and sour cream as Peter, the kitchen a complete mess, and, as promised, Pepper took photos of the two of them being domestic, cleaning it up. Tony had blown soap bubbles at the sink, making Peter laugh with delight before realizing, _oh no_ , he was already heading for that weird headspace.

Pepper must have noticed it, too, because she said lowly, “Hey, Peter, I think you’ve done more than your fair share over there, come sit by me.” 

Shyly, he bounded over to her and threw himself onto the stool, not able to meet her eyes, not- not entirely, his heart thumping in his chest. “You miss this, too?” she asked, quietly, drawing him over to her and tucking him into her side, watching Tony scrub the huge potato-boiling pot fondly.

“Yeah,” sighed Peter, nuzzling her shoulder. “I don’t- it’s just me, in the dorm, you know. I can’t- uh, let go, because it’s just- there’s no one-”

“My two genius boys,” said Pepper fondly. She tapped his nose with a finger, making him cross his eyes. “Well, you let go, if you want. I _missed_ you, everything _about_ you, including that, if you want it.”

Peter swallowed hard and nodded, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Oh-okay, Pepper,” he stammered.

“Yeah, just like that,” she smiled back.

“You two-” accused Tony, sliding the pot onto the rack and striding over to them, hands on his hips, “-are sharing secrets.”

“Not really,” said Pepper smugly. “Peter’s just feeling very much at home.”

“Oh, really?” asked Tony, his eyebrows flying up. A smirk crossed his lips as he leaned across the counter to peer at Peter. “Feeling a little floaty, just from washing the dishes?” he teased.

“I can’t-” muttered Peter, flashing him a guilty glance, cheeks staining red again. “I don’t _control_ it,” he said miserably.

“I know, and I love it, I love that about you,” Tony told him bluntly. “So go ahead, you know you’re safe here, with us. Go ahead, float a little. There’s a reason she makes us, you know, make food and do dishes and stuff. Pep loves you like this.”

“I really do,” murmured Pepper, her arms squeezing him tight. “I love it all, everything.”

Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed, with the two of them, the last time he’d felt _right_ just sort of sliding into this space where everything was good and exciting and happy.

It had been long before he’d gathered the courage to announce that he’d made up his mind and was going back to MIT in the fall, that was for sure.

It had probably been before the announcement of the novel coronavirus entirely, he realized.

“Just float a bit,” sighed Pepper. “You’ve more than earned it. We all have.”

“Can we, um, eat on the couch?” asked Peter. 

“Yes, let’s do _that_ ,” said Tony excitedly. “Please, not the table, he can- we can make sure he stays relaxed. Easier. On the couch.”

“Oh, all right. Watching something horrible, probably,” sighed Pepper.

“Community,” voted Peter. “Or, um, Parks and Rec.”

“Excellent choices. One of those,” agreed Tony, nodding his head. 

“Spoiling me?” murmured Pepper. She tightened her arm around Peter and then kissed the side of his head. “Do go on.”

“Chocolate, hot cocoa,” offered Peter. “After- after supper. Or I can make pudding. On the stove.”

“Real pudding,” said Tony with relish. “Yes. Let’s- let’s do that, too, Pep.”

“Only if you help me burn off the calories later tonight,” she said archly, looking between them.

“Yes, I will,” offered Peter happily. “I will _absolutely_ help you burn calories.”

“You heard him,” said Tony. 

And Pepper smiled her happiest smile, the one that lit up her whole face.

“I’m in love,” Peter told her earnestly.

“Well, good for me,” Pepper said solemnly. She leaned in and kissed him, slow and certain and pushing Tony back and out of the way when he tried to slip in for a turn. “And good for you,” she said, as they paused to look at Tony, who was huffing with exasperation. 

“I love him too,” Peter explained to her.

“Lucky me,” said Tony, leaning in and capturing his mouth, and it was the closet all over again, greedy hands grabbing, needy noises slipping back and forth between the two of them. “God, I love you like this,” Tony murmured against Peter’s lips, and then Pepper’s hand slid between their chests and she declared, “Share.”

Peter turned to her and tilted his head, and shared his delight at _being home_.

They kissed until FRIDAY announced that dinner had achieved perfect readiness, and then they settled in on the couch, Peter in the middle where they liked to keep him, when he went soft and floaty and entirely awed by life. They pressed against him so tightly he could feel their chuckles as well as their breathing, and by the time they’d gotten through the pierogies and two episodes, he was half-hard and convinced he’d never make it through pudding.

“Mm, he’ll never make it through pudding,” murmured Tony, leaning over to kiss the bare skin just visible at the edge of Peter’s sleep shirt collar.

“He will, I want pudding,” declared Pepper.

“We should- we should do that, soon,” gasped Peter.

“Yes, soon,” agreed Tony, hauling himself off of the couch and holding out a hand to Peter. “Like now.”

Pudding went better than pizza or pierogies, but he still ended up with Tony plastered to his back, hand on his hand, helping him _stir_. God, it was- he wanted- he loved Tony’s hands.

Pepper indulged them and got the stoneware bowls they’d bought on a whirlwind trip to San Antonio, slipping away from the boring official tour and wandering the Mercado unsupervised for half-hour, laughing at the cheap plastic toys and marveling at the gorgeous embroidery and bright, cheerful, happy pottery. It had been February, Peter realized with a startle. Just before- before everything.

Tony used Peter’s hand to spoon hot pudding into each bowl, and then said, “If we don’t eat this on the bed, I’m going to be wildly disappointed in your adventurous nature,” to Pepper.

Pepper grinned and rolled her eyes and led the way to the bedroom. Peter stopped to test, quickly, and the bright cheerful green light made them all smile at each other like children at Christmas. And that’s what it felt like, carrying his bowl of warm chocolate pudding to the bedroom- Christmas and his birthday and every single gift he’d ever been given, all at once, the excitement making him giddy.

The pudding was delicious, what little Peter got of it. They fed him spoonfuls, from time to time, but seemed far more interested in drizzling designs from the tip of their spoon across his back or chest, and licking it off of him. He quivered and whined and they teased and touched, and somehow the sheets stayed clean and really, Tony demanding they strip absolutely saved the pajamas from pudding, as well. 

Pepper was adamant the pudding stay above the beltline, until Tony drizzled some on one of Peter’s asscheeks with a wicked smile, and then she had to retaliate by drizzling some on Tony’s hip for _Peter_ to suck off, noisily and with equal enthusiasm. After that, the rules became a hazier and easier to follow _no genitalia_.

“The best thing in the world,” said Tony smugly, teasing Peter with a spoonful held just out of reach as Pepper pressed down on his chest, “is pudding kisses with Peter Parker.”

Pepper made a quiet noise of agreement, diving in as soon as the spoonful had been deposited.

“Changed my mind. This is the best thing,” Tony said, as Pepper’s wicked tongue traced the nooks and crannies of Peter’s mouth, chasing down every taste of sweet and chocolate she could find. “Definitely this.”

Peter hummed. He could agree to that.

It surprised neither one of them when Pepper tossed the bowls on a nightstand and hitched a leg over Peter’s hips, settling onto his cock in a smooth motion that had only become smoother and more confident with practice. Peter lost the ability to access everything to do with anything not thrusting up, _up_ into her wet folds, loving the way her cheeks got pinker and pinker as Tony worked her open on his fingers- first one finger, then two, dripping lube all over Peter’s balls and thighs. Peter didn’t care, not even a little, not when she cried out when Tony pressed her down onto Peter’s chest, not when she gasped as Tony slid his red, angry-looking cockhead down her ass in a porn star move that, yeah, impressed Peter, as it was meant to, before shoving into her.

Not when he could _feel_ Tony move inside her, and fuck up into her wet folds, and look over her shoulder, and see Tony slowly losing his smug, calm composure even as she began to shudder and shake and cry in their arms.

It was maybe over too fast, for all of them, but that wasn’t unusual, for the end of a long business trip or a scientific conference, for a welcome-home from a mission or- or sometimes just the mood would hit just right and they’d get caught up on a random Tuesday. Sometimes the impossibility of how well they worked would hit, like a jolt of caffeine or a bolt of lightning, and they’d reach this same level of too-fast-isn’t-fast-enough, burning up with fever and need and impulsive desire.

Pepper came first and last, sandwiching first Peter and then Tony’s orgasms, Tony shouting and swearing above her, Peter shaking and shocked beneath her. She gasped and quaked and begged, as Peter shook and Tony continued to take and take and take, rubbing Peter’s cock _while inside Pepper_. 

Everything about sex with the two Starks was the hottest, most dangerous thrill on the planet, and the very few portions of outer space Peter had personally explored. He’d never been on a star going supernova, but as they kissed, Pepper twisted to meet Tony’s anxious mouth over her shoulder, he was pretty sure he knew what it was like to be watching one from the next solar system over.

“You’re on clean up,” Pepper said firmly, and Tony barked a laugh, sliding out of her in a slow, fluid motion that made all three of them moan. He sat heavily on the bed, watching Pepper ride Peter just a few more thrusts, as he softened inside of her and stared up, wide-eyed and with a wild heartbeat. “I’m in love,” Peter told her, to watch how it changed the shape of her face. “I know,” she said quietly, leaning down to kiss his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids and temples, his forehead and chin and lips and ears. “I know,” she repeated, over and over again, kissing every part of him she could reach.

Tony wiped them both down with careless flicks of his wrists and a damp cloth, tossing it at the hamper and sliding into bed beside them, squeezing Peter into Pepper’s back and wrapping an arm and a leg around both of them. He kissed the back of Peter’s neck and murmured there, “Stay. Right here, home. Stay.”

“‘Mmm,” hummed Peter, wiggling his ass back into Tony’s crotch with a happy smile, “‘kay.”

“God, I’m in love,” Tony announced quietly, and Pepper replied in a half-asleep murmur, “Me too, now sleep.”

Peter sighed, caught between them, and for the first time in months he didn’t worry if his breathing was infecting either one of them, unaware. He didn’t wonder what microbes might be multiplying in his veins, bent on killing the smartest mind on Earth, laying behind him, or the strongest woman in the world, tucked into his chest. He didn’t panic at all, in fact, and instead, whispered, “Hey, I’m in love,” to FRIDAY.

How she always knew when he was telling her, he hadn’t figured out yet, but she whispered, “I know, Peter. Go to sleep.” The lights dimmed and the noise canceling switched from low to high interference, blocking out every sound that might make sleeping tonight more difficult.

The only sounds he needed to hear, and keep hearing, were the little sighs Pepper gave and the snorts and sputters of Tony. It was music and beauty and joy, and he’d missed it so much, locked away in his apartment in Cambridge. Locked away from them, to keep them safe. 

He’d do it again- Tony was worth saving a million times, worth the fights and the tears and the aggravating misunderstandings- but he was so glad he didn’t have to.

Peter snuggled back, and then forward, and then settled, breathing deep.

 _Home_.

Thank God.

Back where he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> See?! Not bad. Not bad at ALL!
> 
> Happy birthday, Livvi!
> 
> The WriterBuddies Cheerleading Squad is available here: [WriterBuddies](https://discord.gg/4KWWccK)  
> :) Come join us anytime, we have a lot of fun!


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